You Are My Home.
My family, as is the case for most of you (hopefully!), is my heart. My bread and butter. My reason for waking, and my last and most beautiful thought in the evening.
The 3 people I share our home with are simply the most exquisite, most intriguing individuals on the planet. Every day is a pleasure to be around them. My family makes me, and I make my family.
My husband had a business trip to attend on Thursday until Friday evening of this week. So he has been away for one day. I know it’s not much, but for us the magnitude of his absence is enormous. The order is disrupted in our home. The air is different.
He works very long hours, and while travelling is not a frequent prerequisite for his job, long nights are. There are many a night where we don’t see him, and quite honestly, it’s weird.
My home is the four of us. When one person is absent, it’s weird. It’s uncomfortable, a little unsettling, and odd. The babies are always sullen the day after they don’t get to see Daddy. We snuggle at night in Mommy and Daddy’s bed before bedtime, and read books, but it’s just not the same. They love ‘Daddy’s Wrestling’, ‘The Tickle Chompers’, ‘The Daddy House’, and all of the other little creations Daddy has invented just for them because they occupy a magical, and rather large, spot in his heart. Mommy can’t do the Daddy stuff. Mommy does the Mommy stuff. Only Daddy can do the Daddy stuff.
You Are My Home. Tonight, he comes home, and if all is well and on time, he will be here about when the evening news comes on. In light of what happened in our nations capital, Ottawa, this week, I can’t tell you how excited I am to see him. To see his face…always a little red flushed, a proud smile gracing it once he sees us, his hair after travelling a little unmanaged. I miss the hard click of the sound of his shoes on the hardwood floor. I miss the metal on metal sound of him reaching for the hanger in the closet to hang up his coat. I miss the sound of him yelling, happily, when he enters the house, “Heeellllloooo!!!”, and the corresponding quick pitter patter of little feet that go running on command. I miss how once he comes home, we can all breathe a sigh of relief, because the order has been restored once again. One day. One day is one day less that we got to see him and we don’t like it. He is my home. He is our home. And we can’t wait to see him.
Enjoy Your Moments with The Ones who Make Your Memories.